I Never Wanted the Stupid World Anyway
by poisonruby
Summary: Voldemort drinks a Love Potion that makes him infatuated with none other than Hermione Granger. The Wizarding world is confused, to say the least, when he ceases attempts to murder Harry Potter and joins S.P.E.W.
1. Potter Pursuit Problems

**Disclaimer**: JKR _made_ it up, I _stuffed_ it up.

**Author's notes**: I am back to my show-offy twisted humour writing style. Oh, and the plot should be at least mildly captivating. I hope you enjoy it. Please review with opinions!

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**I Never Wanted the Stupid World Anyway**

Chapter 1: Potter Pursuit Problems

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Severus Snape was _not_ amused. The Cruciatus Curse he somehow endured, even the death threats were not too bad... But to tolerate a two hour lecture on manners from the Dark Lord, in a tone that may have been appropriate when addressing a four year old who drenched Mummy's copy of Witch Weekly in SkeleGro, but definitely insulting to a fully grown and mature wizard of remarkable wit and magical power? Severus found that despicable.

And all this fuss because he asked one of Dracula's descendants if he wanted a toothpick! A _wooden_ toothpick. Well, it wasn't exactly pleasant to look at that spider leg stuck in the man's teeth, especially after being assigned to sit next to him during the entire International Death Eater Convention.

Now he wanted revenge. His initial idea was poison, but after some consideration he disregarded it as too bland. Next, his mind devised a series of extremely foolish retaliations, including the Transfiguration of Nagini into Dolores Umbridge's pink cardigan, placing a Knarl on the Dark Lord's chair, and even purchasing a Patented Daydream Charm from the Weasley twins...

Actually, it was the Patented Daydream Charm that gave him the ingenious idea. It drifted through the half-blood Prince's pretty head several times before he stopped to consider it properly. At first, he paused to send an angry Howler to a certain fanfiction writer who described his head as being pretty. Ashes from that Howler have been added to The Shrine.

The idea, namely Amortentia, did not like being ignored. It flashed like the cliche Muggle light bulb and spun around that same pretty head at a speed equivalent to Harry Potter's Firebolt.

That's right, the **Love Potion**. _What would happen_, Severus mused, _if the cruel, cold, spiteful Lord Voldemort ingested a Love Potion?_ The thought was extremely tantalising, to the extent that Severus Snape set off to start preparing Amortentia immediately. It did take a whole month to prepare, after all.

As the Potion bubbled over blood red flames, exceeding desire for vengeance bubbled inside the ex Professor. He did not forgive humiliation easily, and the Dark Lord showed no signs of being apologetic. He ranted about his usual PPPs – Potter Pursuit Problems, with occasional breaks to work on the world's first Parseltongue Dictionary, attempts to plot new and excitingly complicated traps for The Chosen One with the standard loopholes, and when he was feeling especially jolly, attacked his loyal and not-so-loyal Death Eaters with false and not-so-false accusations. For example...

"My Lord, I really did not nibble that humongous hole in your favourite Swiss cheese!" Whined Wormtail.

"Then how did you know it was _Swiss_?" The Dark Lord retaliated with a sneer.

"I just...guessed..." Whimpered Wormtail.

"_Crucio_! NEXT!"

"I didn't even know that you _need_ hair gel, your Lordship! Seeing as you..._ahem_...never mind. Well, I just thought that pot of hair gel – very good quality by the way – was just standing there and -" Drawled Draco.

"Did you just make references to my..._lack of hair_?" Lord Voldemort turned pink with fury.

"No, no, no, of course not! I would never -" Muttered Malfoy.

Fortunately, Draco evaded the Cruciatus Curse. Vile Volders also saw a necessity in sending a Howler, with demands to stop the use of "daft puns". This one didn't make The Shrine, but my daffodils are quite enjoying the ashes.

In that style, a month went by. The most remarkable thing that happened was another duel of Lord Voldemort with Harry Potter, but even _the Prophet_ got sick of hearing that one. Potter once again escaped, with another lightning-bolt-shaped scar. This one was on his left buttock.

Unfortunately for the Snarry fans, the Severus Snape of this story was not particularly interested in investigating Potter's new scar any further. He was jubilant, for the Amortentia was finally ready, and it was decision-making time.

_So, whom should Voldemort fall in love with? _ He mused. _Potter? That would be amusing, of course, but he would still continue hunting the boy just as he is now, although for different purposes. But Potter would probably react the same upon hearing "I love you!" from Voldemort as he would from "Avada Kedavra!". It has got to be someone on the other side though..._

He needed a better a candidate, and proceeded to make a list.

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**Minerva McGonagall** – Would probably Transfigure him into a hermit crab the instant he showed up at her doorstep with a bunch of daisies.

**Rita Skeeter** – Oh, we would definitely see some interesting press in that case! But, I am concerned for the fate of the Wizarding world after such press would be published...

**Molly Weasley** – I do feel slightly empathetic towards her and would rather spare her the trauma.

**Dobby the House Elf** – Um... I really shouldn't have read that Slash.

**Peeves** – Excellent idea, but I doubt the Potion is applicable to Poltergeists.

**Mrs Norris **– I'd love to witness the outcome, but it doesn't work on cats either.

**Fenrir Greyback **– Would almost certainly leave poor Voldie scarred for life. Literally.

**Hermione Granger** – A Muggle born. _AND_ Potter's girlfriend...Or maybe it was Weasley's. Or Remus Lupin's. Or maybe even mine, come to think of it. You can never tell with those "Ships"...

Well, she might as well be Lord Voldemort's girlfriend from now on! Because, I swear on my jar of picked toads...Hang on; maybe that is not the most appropriate oath... I swear on the lightning-bolt-shaped scar on Potter's left buttock, that Hermione Granger will annoy the hell out of the Dark Lord!

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And with that promise, Severus proceeded to add the finishing touches to the Amortentia.

_Vengeance will indeed be sweet_, he thought as he stirred the mixture counter-clockwise, inhaling the smell of rain, black coffee, kittens, and that magical dusty scent of the Hogwarts library.

Excuse me for now; I seem to have yet another Howler to attend to.


	2. Of Bathrobes and Hibiscuses

**Disclaimer**: I wrote to JK Rowling, asking if I can _borrow_ Severus Snape, but she's taking her time replying...So _all_ the characters are still her property. –sigh–

**Author's notes**: I got the most amazing reviews for chapter one. Thank you so much! I just hope you guys like this one as much as the previous one.

You will find that this chapter contains fancy long words at sporadic intervals.

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**I Never Wanted the Stupid World Anyway**

Chapter 2: Of Bathrobes and Hibiscuses

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It was a typical morning. The sun rose lazily above the moderately merry village of Little Hangleton; diminutive birds cheeped innocently in the trees surrounding the Riddle House, rodents twittered in confusion and frustration, attempting to find their way out of the long slithering sack that was Nagini's stomach. One of them was missing a toe.

Meanwhile, Narcissa Malfoy was running around in her lacy nightgown, arms flapping like wings, long silvery hair soaring behind her, repeatedly yelling "Wormtail!" with occasional interjections of Unforgivable Curses. She too liked Swiss cheese, and was unhappy to see it gone. She was even less happy to discover that the suspected culprit was nowhere to be seen.

Having circled the dilapidating architectural structure that served the Dark Lord as headquarters several times, she tripped on a spare set of iron knuckles and landed gracefully at the aforementioned Dark Lord's feet.

"Narcissa, get me a quill, ink and parchment, quick." Lord Voldemort ordered unflappably. She scampered off to comply and was back within a minute.

Without an expression of gratitude, he sat down and started scribbling. He wrote numbers and letters, arranged them in tables and columns, he scribbled and criss-crossed, occasionally stopping to chew on the quill.

"Yet another plot against Potter?" A voice whispered into Narcissa's ear, making her jump and hiccup.

_I wonder if Borgin & Burkes sells biting Howlers_, she thought vindictively. _I am poised and stylish. I do not hiccup when startled!_

She turned around to see a conniving look on Severus Snape's face. The kind of look he was wearing when he transformed Lucius' cane into a fairy wand in revenge for using up a year's worth of Beautification Potion in two days, and sneaking into Snape's private stores to steal some more.

"Oh my god! Actually I, like, totally have no idea what he's, like, doing!" This is where the author's vendetta is accomplished. _Biting_ Howlers? Who did she think she _was_?

Narcissa hastily covered her mouth with a pale hand as she realised the injudiciousness of the words she just uttered. Severus raised an eyebrow at her, and went back to looking conniving. He was holding what seemed to be a goblet of red wine.

"Would you like some wine, milord?" Severus asked nonchalantly. Voldemort ignored him, and continued scrawling at an unnaturally high pace. _That's one thing he has in common with the future maiden of his heart_, Severus noted.

He cleared his throat. Repeatedly. Until it sounded like he was choking. Voldemort was still bent over the parchment, scribbling, his forked tongue poking out from concentration. Severus leaned over the Dark Lord's shoulder, but did not understand the meaning of the numbers, letters and symbols that were scattered in a peculiar pattern.

"Are you sure you're not thirsty, your Lordship?" He enquired again, a bit louder.

"Shut up, you are distracting me!" He hissed in response.

"I would fancy some red wine, Severus." Narcissa said slyly. She was beginning to suspect that Severus is up to something, and he knew it.

"I brought it for the Dark Lord." He said stiffly.

"He clearly does not want it." Narcissa retorted.

"You can get your own wine!" He knew that sounded incredibly immature, especially coming from him. Severus scowled.

The author, who felt partially at fault in the situation, summoned a gust of wind to squall through the room, billowing out Severus' robes and making him look especially dark and ominous. Narcissa, who was still dressed in the frilly nightgown, shivered. Two Bowtruckles with one Gobstone, as the saying goes. Or however the say it in the real (magical) world.

"But Severus, I am thirsty!" Narcissa insisted.

He pointed his wand at Narcissa, showering her in a stream of cold water with a non-verbal _Aguamenti!_

An aberrant shriek echoed through the Riddle House, making the hairs on the necks of its few inhabitants prickle. With the exception of the Dark Lord, who obviously had nothing that would prickle... _Ahem_. I did not mean it in _that_ way... Oh Merlin, please tell me that is not a _biting Howler_! Aaaaaaaaaaaaaah...

Moving on.

Lord Voldemort was so furious, that his anger ruptured the Occumulency block he had put on Harry Potter, and the Boy Whose Survival Instincts Were Just Too Fine experienced extreme physical and mental anguish.

"You are DISTRACTING ME!" He roared in a high-pitched hiss the way only he could. "BEGONE!"

And with that, he waved his wand.

Severus Snape, the goblet of wine, and Narcissa Malfoy disappeared in a cloud of lustrous smoke.

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Hermione Jane Granger was reading _Hogwarts: A History_, hoping to discover information on the Hogwarts founders and any artefacts they have left behind, which may have been Horcruxified. Ronald Bilius Weasley was eating porridge and thinking about death. Harry James Potter was rolling around on the floor, screaming in agony and agitation, for both his lightning-bolt-shaped scars were hurting him tremendously. Eventually, he got up and resumed his position at the Dursleys' coffee table. His two best friends didn't really pay attention.

"Rowena Ravenclaw had a magical butter spreader!" Hermione exclaimed. She eagerly turned over the page. "No, wait...that was claimed by the Ministry and taken to the Department of Mysteries... Then there's Hufflepuff's Golden Potato Tree, an item of significant magical value and power! Except, it doesn't say what happened to it..."

**POOF!**

Severus Snape, holding a goblet in his hand, and Narcissa Malfoy, wearing a wet frilly nightgown, appeared right in the middle of the room.

If any member of the Dursley family was present, the sudden materialization may have caused a dramatic effect, but fortunately they were visiting Aunt Marge for a week. They left Harry alone, making him swear to become extinct as soon as he turned 17, so they could return to a Potter-free house. That did not stop him from inviting Ron and Hermione to stay for a few days, and his twenty closest friends for the first ever birthday party in his miserable life.

Ron obviously found his porridge and sordid thoughts more fascinating than an ex-Potions Master and a wet Death Eater's wife in his best mate's living room. Hermione eyed them apprehensively, mentally revising all the curses and counter-curses that she ever learned.

The Chosen One, on the other hand, found frilly nightgowns drenched in water thoroughly fascinating.

"Potter, give me a bathrobe or at least a blanket. Can you not see I am freezing, you smutty scumbag?" Narcissa demanded. Harry remembered seeing a bathrobe in the fresh laundry basket, and ran to fetch it.

Severus noticed a Hibiscus standing on the bar and ensued to pour the wine, which obviously contained Amortentia, into the pot. The plant immediately sprouted a stunning flower.

"Um, Professor... Did you come here to water Harry's plant life?" Hermione Granger diffidently enquired.

"No." He said simply, smirking on the inside at the thought of Voldemort wooing her. "Narcissa?"

Draco's mother emerged from the direction of the kitchen, clad in a fluffy baby yellow bathrobe, closely followed by a baffled-looking Harry. His hair looked messier than usual for some reason, and his pasty cheeks were tinged with pink.

"We had better be going." Narcissa said. It sounded as though she was trying to suppress a giggle. She winked at Harry and Disapparated.

"Professor Snape, I wanted to ask you something for a very long time." Hermione started. Severus gave her a perplexed look. "Were you named after Severus the Roman general?"

"I will not dignify that question with an answer." He snapped.

Severus turned on the spot and was gone in a flourish of black billowing robes.

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When they returned, the Dark Lord was surrounded by a mound of parchment scrolls, all covered in the same peculiar scribbles. Now he looked fairly exasperated, and was wiping sweat from his bald head with a black and red embroidered handkerchief. He held one of his pale hands with unusually long figures in front of himself, and started counting off fingers, muttering.

"Milord?" Severus asked vigilantly.

"It is impossible!" Lord Voldemort hissed. "I simply cannot work it out..."

"What is troubling you so much?"

"Well, it _is_ dreadfully complicated." He began. "I am trying to figure out how old I am."

Severus Snape felt like snorting, but did not want to ruin the menacing façade. Voldemort went though a few dozen rolls of parchment trying to figure out his own _age_?

"Weren't you born in 1926, milord? That would make you precisely 70." He said in a reserved logical tone.

"That's where you're wrong, Severus. What about the years I spent out of my body, floating around in a less-than-human shape? What about the four times in my life that I used a Time-Turner? What about that time my younger version emerged from my old school diary? Oh, for Salazar's sake! I've had enough of this madness!" He gestured to the heaps of parchment surrounding him.

"Severus, fetch me a Firewhisky."

_Somebody up there must really like me_, thought Severus Snape.

Oh, you know it goes beyond that, Sevvy.


End file.
